


Du Kannst es Tun

by MooseFeels



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Amnesia, Best Friends, Magical Girls, Reincarnation, Sailor Moon Crystal, it's a fucking sailor moon au because i've lost control of my life, magical boys?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11539803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: Viktor hasn't felt anything since the car wreck, until he runs into Yuuri on the street.Yuuri feels everything, too sharply and too much, but especially the guilt of getting everyone involved in this.The Silver Crystal is missing. Yuuri and his friends have to find it, and the Moon Princess.





	1. Chapter 1

Viktor doesn’t feel anything.

He’s not sure where he is or how he got there or why he decided to go. He’s not in St. Petersburg-- he hasn’t been there for years. He’s somewhere in Japan, he thinks. Not a city. He feels the raw, salty air against his skin. He feels the sunlight from behind his sunglasses and the tightness in his body, held upright by his suit. His tuxedo. Armani. 

Viktor doesn’t remember putting it on. He barely remembers buying it. 

Viktor doesn’t feel anything except a distant, nebulous pull toward something. He’s not sure what. 

Viktor doesn’t remember what it feels like to not be  _ empty _ . He doesn’t remember life before the wreck. He doesn’t remember life without the crippling, shrieking loneliness. The empty house. The empty sound of his skates on the empty ice. Hollow laughter and dreamless sleep. 

Viktor’s not sure if the not-dreaming was worse than the nightmares. Either way, the obvious solution to that is to not sleep.

Viktor doesn’t feel anything, so he’s not really  _ surprised _ but he is  _ interrupted _ when he runs into a stranger and the both fall onto the street. 

The stranger drops a bag and a few books. A pair of glasses. Their voice is a soft  _ oomf _ near Viktor’s ear.

Viktor’s sunglasses have slipped off and he fumbles to pick them up. The stranger’s hand drifts to his though and he looks at him and--

Viktor feels a stutter in his heartbeat and then a  _ rush _ sweet through him. Nothing and then an overwhelming  _ everything _ . 

The stranger has a young, round face. Tender brown eyes, open overwide without glasses. Full, pink cheeks. 

Features that are immediately familiar and  _ precious _ to him. 

Viktor wishes he knew why. 

“I’m sorry,” the stranger says, quickly, in English. Viktor thanks god, internally-- he’s not sure he knows much, if any, Japanese. “I was distracted and--”   
“Hey, you should really watch out,” someone else says, and they help their friend up. “Yuuri, are you okay?”   
The stranger nods and shoves a pile of books into the friend’s hands. Stoops to pick up Viktor’s sunglasses and hand them to him. 

“Are you okay?” The stranger asks him. 

_ No _ , Viktor thinks. 

Viktor draws himself back up. He’s taller than the stranger and the friend. His hands have the barest tremor when they slip the sunglasses back over his eyes. 

The stranger bows, quickly. “I’m sorry,” he says, before taking back his books and rushing away.

“Watch yourself, asshole,” the friend spits in lazy, easy Russian, before following after. 

Viktor watches them go, rushing quickly off to a nearby arcade.

There is nothing particularly exciting about the first time he meets Yuuri, except that he’s pretty sure it’s the first time in years that he sees color and that he feels anything other than the emptiness that rings inside of him.

* * *

 

Yuuri jogs quickly to the arcade, and Yurio follows after him. 

“What was that asshole’s problem?” Yurio asks as they slip through the automatic doors. “He should watch where he’s going.”   
“He was just tired,” Yuuri answers. “Did you see his eyes? I’m surprised he was upright.”   
Yuurio rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he says. “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” Yuuri says. “But we have to find the princess. She could be lost and she needs our help.”

Yurio looks at him with his serious, green eyes and he nods. 

God, he’s so young. Sixteen and already so much stronger than Yuuri could ever be. 

Yuuri desperately wants this to end safely, and soon. Yurio deserves a normal life. Yurio and Phichit and Chris-- all three of them. 

Phichit and Chris are already waiting inside. Chris is off shift and Phichit is arriving fresh from labwork. All three of them, in front of the arcade machine. 

Phichit smiles to see him. “We were getting worried,” he says. “We almost went out looking.”   
Chris has gentle, playful eyes and a biting tongue. And Phichit has a heart as wide and open as the endless ocean. And Yurio has belief in him like lightning. 

Yuuri can’t figure out how he got so lucky to know all of them. 

“Yuuri?” Chris asks. “Are you ready?”

Yuuri nods, and he steps up to the machine and slides in some coins. Rests his hand on the joystick for a moment, before something slides and somehow, underneath, there is something. 

The computer. 

Yuuri doesn’t understand how it works. It’s like it  _ knows _ . It knew that Phichit would have an actual ocean waiting to fall from his fingers; that Chris has fire ready from the very air surrounding him; that Yurio really  _ does _ have lightning in him. The computer knew that Yuuri would be able to find them; gave him the tools to help. To protect the people in his town and shield his family. 

Yuuri runs his thumb over the brooch, smoothing over endlessly the shape of the moon imprinted on the gold. 

They’ll find her, and then this will be  _ over _ and things will be normal again. Yuuri can go back to work at the inn, can go back to the silence of his days and quiet, understanding company of his family. 

Yuuri lets his hand drift over the computer console. A few lines of text show up, written in Japanese, in German, in Thai, in Russian. 

Yuuri frowns, reading it. 

“This says the silver crystal is with the princess,” he says, mostly to process the information himself. “So if we protect her, we’ll protect both.”   
“Easy-peasy,” Phichit says, his voice bright and hopeful and cheerful. 

Yuuri tries to drift through the files, to find something,  _ anything _ , more useful. Where or who she could be. Some of them had pictures already, or a first or last name. But there’s nothing there. Just that the moon princess and the silver crystal aren’t just connected, they’re together. 

Yuuri feels a hand on his shoulder and he turns around.

It’s just him and Phichit.

“Yuuri,” Phichit says. “Go home. Go to bed. There’s nothing more we can do today and you haven’t been sleeping. We’ll monitor things-- I have that alert set up, remember?”

Chris is gone. Yurio is, too. 

Yuuri rubs at his eyes breifly. “Sorry,” he says. “Sorry. I know you have school-- you didn’t have to--”   
“I wanted to, Yuuri,” Phichit says, his smile soft, like it always is. “Someone has to make sure you take care of yourself.”

Yuuri stands and guiltily follows Phichit out of Chris’s arcade. It’s night, the streetlights coming alive. Phichit glances over at the books Yuuri is carrying. 

“I thought maybe the library would have more information,” Yuuri says, shrugging. “The computer is….cryptic and I’m not even sure I’m using it right.”

Phichit smiles at him, ever supportive and warm. “I’ll give it a look tomorrow after my lab, okay?” He asks. “I think it likes me more than you-- no offense Yuuri.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “No, it’s okay-- I just know you’re so busy and I’m already taking up so much of  your life and--”   
“Yuuri,” Phichit says, his voice crackling at the edges. He pulls him into a tight hug. 

He pulls away after a moment and looks at him seriously. “When you get home take  _ care _ of yourself,” Phichit says, firmly. “Eat something. Sleep.”

Yuuri nods. “You’re worse than Mari,” he says, looking away. 

“I wouldn’t have to be if you listened to her,” Phichit replies. 

“You don’t have to walk me home,” Yuuri says. “I know your apartment is the opposite direction.”

Phichit’s expression falls, ever so slightly.  “Okay, Yuuri,” he says. “I’ll text you when I get home?”

Yuuri nods. Phichit knows he worries. 

He walks quickly home, slipping in through the kitchen entrance and falling into the routine before his mother or father can stop him; before his older sister forces him to eat something. He scrubs the dishes and folds towels and is moving to clean a shower stall when he steps into the large open room and--

Yuuri recognizes him because he can’t help but recognize him. Slumped over a table, a cup for tea in one hand. His silver hair fanned over his face, his features slack. 

The man he ran into today. Beautiful, but tired. Attired in a borrowed yukata, out of the beautiful suit. 

Out of the beautiful suit but nonetheless still very beautiful. 

Yuuri slips past him, to the rooms before the springs, and he tries to squash that desirous, fascinated feeling inside himself. A feeling of having been here before. A feeling of having known this man before. 

A feeling nearly like dancing.

But Yuuri doesn’t dwell on it. He could never hope for something like that, and now more than ever he doesn’t have  _ time _ for things like that.

* * *

 

For the first time since he was seven, Viktor rests easy and wakes up unconfused.


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri can’t really explain. 

They’re pretty sure the crystal is going to be here and they’re pretty sure that the princess will, too. There’s  _ a _ princess here so why wouldn’t  _ the _ princess be here?

Time has been passing and things just seem to be getting more dangerous. Phichit has to get his degree, though, and Chris has the arcade and Yurio is still just a  _ kid _ and Yuuri has dragged them into all of this-- the jewelry store that turned people into zombies and the radio station that sapped people’s energy with bad love letters. Looking for a  _ princess _ from the moon.

And now they’re at a ball without  _ invitations _ but some sort of nebulous disguise provided from the magic pens they have that Makka gave them. And Yuuri’s at a  _ ball _ with a bunch of strangers anxious out of  his mind, wearing something ridiculous. 

Yuuri steps away from the ballroom. The garden is misty and quiet, and the moon hangs high and heavy in the sky. 

Yuuri looks up at it. He feels a little cold; the thing the pen put him in leaves his shoulders bare. The dress, he guess. It’s long and a soft, blue-white sort of color. It fits him like he was born to wear it. 

Yuuri takes a deep breath. 

“Where are you?” Yuuri asks. “We can’t keep doing this. They have-- they have  _ lives _ . And I just keep interrupting.”

The moon doesn’t answer. The princess does either.

Yuuri hears a soft voice, and he turns. 

There’s someone tall nearby, with silvery hair. They’re wearing a tuxedo that’s sharply cut, cleaving close and beautiful to body. He’s wearing a cape and a mask.

He looks immediately familiar and terribly strange. 

“Oh,” Yuuri says. “I’m sorry. I can-- I should--”

The stranger steps closer to him.

“In the moonlight,” the stranger says. HIs voice is familiar. “You’re beautiful.”

Yuuri feels heat on his cheeks, anxiety flower in his stomach. “You-- you’re very kind,” he says. 

The stranger shakes his head. “I’m not,” he says. His voice is soft and his Japanese is accented. “You’re beautiful.” He’s near Yuuri now. He’s a few inches taller than Yuuri, and his figure is slim. Yuuri can see this close that there’s a thin, worn quality to him. The candle burned at both ends. 

Behind the mask, his eyes are clear and blue. Yuuri suspects that if he pulled the thin domino mask away, he’d have heavy bags under his eyes.

“I know you,” they say. “I  _ know _ you.”

Yuuri studies him, because the more he looks, the more he knows it’s true.

“Why are you here?” Yuuri asks.

“I don’t know,” he answers. He brow creases under his mask. “I’m-- I’m looking for someone. For something.”   
“The-- the legendary silver crystal,” Yuuri says. It’s why everyone is here; it’s why everyone has been pulled into his orbit for the past eight months. 

The stranger’s face wavers, shifts. 

“Yes,” he says, eventually, almost reluctantly. 

“Who are you?” Yuuri asks.

“I don’t know,” he answers. 

The stranger pulls a rose from somewhere. Yuuri is so intent to study his familiar-unfamiliar eyes that he doesn’t quite see how his hands fashion it into existence-- Yuuri’s pretty sure he pulled it from a nearby bush.. But it has a long stem and deep red petals and the stranger looks at Yuuri almost reverently as he steps even closer.

Yuuri takes it but he doesn’t look away. He pulls the rose to his chest, tightly.

That’s about when it all goes to hell.

-

There’s a hideous sort of noise and then he finds himself overwhelmed by that thundering, terrible need to  _ protect _ .

He’s beautiful, in the moonlight. His shoulders are milky and soft, and his face is warm and round; his features the clearest thing he’s ever seen.

He grabs him, holds him close and tight, as the noise is followed by screaming. 

He pulls away from him and dashes back toward the ball.

“Wait!” He cries, but he doesn’t pay attention to him. 

He follows after him, he stumbles and dodges and leaps and as suddenly as he rounds the corner and he can see him, he can see what’s happening, there’s some sort of shake and some sort of light and--

He gets knocked off the balcony. 

Viktor reaches out, to catch him, to grab him, to  _ protect _ him, but he slips through his fingers and Viktor goes tumbling after him. 

And they’re falling, when there’s a flash of light, and everything  _ shifts _ and  _ spins _ and they aren’t falling, they’re drifting, Viktor clutching him closely and an umbrella slowing their fall.

And he’s wearing something different. The ballgown is gone, and instead he’s wearing something--

It’s a uniform. The kind a soldier might wear. 

He looks at Viktor, his brown eyes wide and earnest and beautiful. 

“I have to go,” he says. “I have to-- be safe? Get out of here. Please. It’s not safe.”   
Viktor tries to hold him, tries to keep him close and safe in his arms, but he slips away. He looks, determined, back up at the balcony, and almost like a cat, he leaps up into the air and back into the fight.

Viktor looks, in horror, up at the balcony. 

He just found him. He can’t  _ lose _ him. 

He just untangles that thought-- what that thought could  _ mean _ \-- as he makes his way back upstairs and into the ballroom, but as suddenly as everything started happening, it’s all over. The Princess D, the one throwing the ball, has a hand rested on her forehead and a bodyguard is supporting her. People are dancing, smiling. 

Viktor feels crazy, but Viktor always feels crazy. He looks at all of them, dancing. Happy. Like nothing has happened. Like nothing has changed. 

It’s all too familiar, this feeling. 

Left behind.

Viktor scans the crowd for  _ him _ , but he’s nowhere to be seen. He sighs, and drifts out of the ballroom back to the balcony.

Viktor nearly doesn’t recognize him. He’s out of the long, diaphanous gown and instead is in a suit that fits him nearly as well as Viktor’s fits himself. His bowtie is loosened, though, and his cheeks are flushed high with color. He’s leaned against the edge of the balcony and he holds a champagne flute.

He sees Viktor and he smiles. 

“It’s  _ you _ ,” he says. Viktor steps forward as he leans to him and Viktor catches him in his arms. 

He looks up at him, his brown eyes swimming. 

“It’s you,” Viktor answers. 

“I had champagne,” he says. His hands wrap around Viktor’s arms, his chest leans against him. The rose Viktor gave him is curled in his hand. Viktor takes his hand and unwraps it from around the rose. 

“Oh,” Viktor says. “The thorns.”

Pinpoints of blood have welled up from where the thorns have stuck him. 

He looks at his hand, and then back at Viktor. 

“I don’t mind,” he says. “I didn’t even feel the pain.”

Viktor hold his hand. Brings it in even closer to him, pulls him close to  _ see _ . 

“I know you,” Viktor says. 

“I know,” he answers. 

“What is your name?” Viktor asks. 

He looks at him, off balance. He lays his hand on Viktor’s chest and he smiles so sweetly, so beautifully. 

“I’m Yuuri,” he says. He yawns, expressively. "The crystal wasn't even here."

Viktor looks at him, confused. 

"And the right princess wasn't either," Yuuri says. "I'm starting to think we'll never find her."

"I'm-- I'm sorry," Viktor says. And something about a _princess_ , that sounds familiar. That sounds almost right. 

"She's from the _moon_ ," Yuuri says, and he yawns again. 

Viktor stumbles with both of them over to a bench, and sits down with Yuuri.

Yuuri’s brown eyes grow heavy lidded and as suddenly as he appears into Viktor’s life, he falls asleep. 

And Viktor watches him, overcome. Fascinated. 

He feels the sensation of wanting to kiss him, phantom and strange over his lips. 

“Don’t  _ touch  _ him,” he hears someone hiss.

He looks up and there’s a teen standing there in a tuxedo, his long blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail. His green eyes are angry. 

“Get the  _ fuck _ away from him-- who the  _ hell _ are you?” He demands, and he comes to the bench and pushes Viktor away, supporting Yuuri. 

And Viktor doesn’t have a good answer for him, as he stands and pulls Yuuri-- groggy, sleeping Yuuri-- away. 

The teen glares at him. “I don’t know who you are,” he says. “But stay away from him. Stop following us.”

And Yuuri seems to wake up just enough to say something in muddled Japanese as they walk away. 

As lost as he’s ever been, Viktor watches Yuuri slip away.

He looks at his chest, at the starpoints of red blood left from where Yuuri's hand rested there. 


	3. Chapter 3

Yuuri wakes up slowly, his eyelids heavy, his body stiff. He sits up, a little groggy and grabs his eyeglasses from his nightstand. He slides them on. 

The door opens and--

It’s Viktor, the guest staying in the inn. Quiet and beautiful and sort of lost, in himself. The one Yuuri has been running into. The one Yuuri has been thinking about. 

Yuuri remembers, sort of all at once. He remembers waking up in his arms-- in his arms, with him wearing the tuxedo. The cape. The  _ mask _ . He remembers his arms around him, holding him so carefully. He remembers his eyes. Clear blue. 

He remembers him. 

_ This is all my fault, _ he’d said, his voice strained and worried.  _ I’m so sorry. _

Yuuri remembers being so scared for him to see.    
He remembers him knowing  _ anyway. _

But Yuuri can’t remember the rest of the fight, and he feels anxiety seize him suddenly. 

“What happened?” Yuuri asks, as Viktor stands there, holding a tray with tea.

Viktor looks down, suddenly, pulling his beautiful blue eyes away. 

“You got hurt,” he says, his voice serious. “I brought you back.” 

“Oh,” Yuuri says. “Is everyone alright--?”   
“You got hurt,” Viktor interrupts. “You--” He says something in Russian, gestures with his fingers. He runs out of the English rather quickly. 

“Phichit?” Yuuri asks. “Yurio and--”

“Everyone is okay,” Viktor says. He steps into the room all the way, closes the door with his foot. It’s Yuuri’s own room. With his posters and photos and books and his dumb blanket and pillows. “You have to be more  _ careful _ ,” he says, with feeling. “What if you got hurt?”

Yuuri shrugs.  _ It’s just me _ , he doesn’t say out loud.  _ Better me than them. Than you.  _

Instead of really answering to that, though, Yuuri says, quietly, into the room, “You’re looking for it, too.”

Viktor nods. He sits down at the chair beside the bed and hands Yuuri a cup of tea. Yuuri shelters it in his hands.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just need it,” he answers. He looks back at Yuuri, his expression a serious as if he were coming from a funeral. “I just do.”   
He looks at Yuuri, at him in the bed, still rumpled and disheveled from sleep. 

Viktor has something breakable in his expression. Searching and lonesome and lost. 

“Please,” he says. 

“We have to find the princess,” Yuuri blurts. “We need the crystal to find her. Maybe-- maybe she could let you use it?”

Viktor nods. “Thank you,” he says. He stands up, turns to leave the room. 

“What--what happened?” Yuuri asks. “Why do you need it?”

Viktor laughs, his back to him. “Would you believe I don’t remember?”

Yuuri looks at him. He’s standing in the doorway, dressed in the dress shirt and tuxedo pants. His back is to him, and he has one hand rested on the doorway, the other by his side. 

“You-- you don’t remember?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor nods. 

“There was-- there was a car crash,” he says. “My mother and father died. And I don’t remember them. I don’t remember  _ anything _ before the crash. I just remember-- I remember not even waking up, just suddenly  _ being _ in the hospital and a doctor is talking to me and it’s just me. They had to remind me of my name.”

Yuuri heart breaks. 

“I kept having a dream,” Viktor says. “And when I woke up, I knew I needed the Silver Crystal. There’s a soldier and crying and then i just know I need the Silver Crystal.”

Yuuri pulls himself out of the bed and he wraps his arms around Viktor, emboldened by  _ something _ . Something familiar and sharp, something that cuts him to the bone. 

And with Viktor’s back pressed against his chest and his hands wrapped in his own, Yuuri realizes with utter clarity that Viktor isn’t just familiar, he’s everything. 

“It was just-- greyness. For years. For so, so long. And I met you and it-- I wasn’t a ghost anymore. It was like I came alive,” he says. “I came alive, and it was you. It was always you.”

Viktor sighs, a deep breath that shakes his shoulder and travels down his spine. 

Yuuri realizes he’s crying. It’s like something inside of him is open for the first time. Something can’t explain. 

“I’d been sleepwalking. For years. It’s like being two different people. Me and the mask. But-- I’m neither of them,” he says. “And it scares me.”

Yuuri pulls Viktor closer. Holds him tightly. Like he could never let him go.

“Who do you...who do you want me to be?” Viktor asks. His voice cracks, just barely. “Your lover? Your father figure? Your--”   
“I want you to be Viktor,” Yuuri says. Because it’s true. Because there’s a treasure about him. Because Yuuri kind of understands. Because Viktor is precious, and because as much as Yuuri has to protect  _ everyone _ , he has to protect Viktor, too. 

“We’ll find it,” Yuuri promises.  _ And then everything will go back to normal.  _

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes, you have to send yourself to hell.  
> this will either update really really infrequently or there will be another five thousand words up in the next 48 hrs. no middle sliders.


End file.
